The Meek
by Yitz
Summary: The opposite of Tris's fate: a girl named Claire transfers from Dauntless to Abnegation. The chapters switch off perspective between Claire and her older sister, Arden, who must cope with the loss of her only sibling. (Originally a one shot, now expanded)
1. Chapter One - Claire

**Claire**

There has always been a place in my mind where I feel safe. I go there when I lie awake in my bed at night; I go there when someone scoffs at my weakness; I go there when I think of the future.

Sometimes I imagine being brave and strong like I am supposed to be - I see myself with colorful streaks on my hair and dark tattoos on my body, running with my classmates along the streets of the ruined city. I envision myself winning fights against my toughest peers. In this world, no one could dream of calling me "Scaredy-Claire." My parents would be proud of me, and at the Choosing Ceremony I wouldn't even think twice about spilling my blood on the coals.

Other times I try to picture the inverse: a reality where everyone is like me, reserved and non-confrontational. This is easier to imagine, because I've seen glimpses of it in real life. The people who wear all gray and speak softly to each other on the playground while the other children from my faction would wrestle for fun. My parents call these people Stiffs, and somehow that is the way I feel myself. When my mother checks my muscle development and shakes her head sadly, I stiffen. I try to pretend it's not happening. And then I let my mind drift into that safe place.

My parents love me, but they love my older sister Arden more. She is the embodiment of the tenets of Dauntless. She is fearless, but more than that, she is brave. I've seen her save people and intervene in fights. Once there was a fire near our school building, and she ran to put it out herself, while I was hiding under my desk.

Somehow, she still believes I'm going to succeed in our faction. Arden has her own apartment now, of course, but since she's stayed in Dauntless she can come see us whenever she has free time. "I'm going to help you, Claire," she'll say. "I'm going to show you the moves they teach in initiation. You'll be more prepared than anyone." Then she'll demonstrate punches and kicks that we both know I can't do. It's not that Arden thinks my potential is great; she just doesn't want to lose me. If I choose Dauntless, I will most certainly fail initiation and become factionless. If I choose another faction...

I can't think about that. Not yet. Instead I think of what comes before, the thing that's happening tomorrow: my personality test. It will tell me who I really am and where I belong.

The next day, I jump off the subway car like the others, but unlike them I don't land on my feet. I stumble in the grassy patch next to the train tracks, which is lucky since it means I'll get off without any injuries. Or maybe it's unlucky - a cut or two might make me seem just the tiniest bit tougher. I'm surprised when someone comes to help me up, but of course it's not anybody from my faction. A Dauntless member would tell me it's my own fault for being so clumsy, that I should persevere through the pain and pull myself up. That would be the brave thing to do. Maybe I could have gotten up without help, but I'm thankful for it. I see the person who assisted me was a girl from Abnegation, her hair in a tight bun, her loose gray outfit moving slightly in the wind. "Thank you," I tell her, but she just nods and walks away. I bet she will choose to stay in Abnegation. When she returns to her group of friends, they smile and pat her back. They approve of what she did, and I wonder what that feels like.

After lunch, we wait in the cafeteria. I find a spot at the corner of a table of people who don't notice me, which I guess is for the best. I sit with my legs folded under and my hands in my lap. Maybe if I don't take up too much space, no one will see me. Maybe I can turn invisible. I glance around as the first group of names are called. Everyone is nervous, except for my fellow Dauntless, who are nervous but pretending not to be. I doubt I'm good at hiding my anxiety, but it's not like anyone is looking at me, anyway. I peer at the table of Abnegation and I spy the girl who helped me up earlier. She doesn't gaze back, and I feel strangely relieved. What would I do if her eyes met mine? Would I smile and wave, or just quickly look away?

The group who was called has returned. They look tired. Now the reality of the situation has set in. It is all about to begin.

When it's my turn to be tested, I'm called with a Dauntless boy who I'm certain has never spoken to me before. He doesn't take this time to change that. I try to smile at him as we step into our adjacent rooms, but he's looking straight ahead. His expression is steely; he doesn't need my encouragement. I don't feel the same way. It would be nice if someone would smile at me and try to give me the sense that everything would be alright, but that hadn't happened. When my parents sent me off to school this morning, they said the same thing they always do: "Try to be brave today, Claire." So I'll try now. I take a deep breath and force my body into the room before me.

The person inside it is a Candor man. Maybe I've seen him before; I don't remember. His face is kind, though. "Hello," he says. "Are you ready?"

I am not ready. The question feels like a trick: coming from a Candor, I don't want to lie. But if I say no, that will reveal my weakness. A disappointment to my parents in its own small way. I decide the best option is just to shrug. Maybe if I appear apathetic it won't be obvious how nervous I am.

"Please sit down," the man says. "My name is Oscar. I'll be administering your test."

I follow the instructions, sitting in the strange chair in the middle of the room. It is neither soft nor hard; I can't sink into it nor support myself against the back. When I'm relatively relaxed, Oscar starts attaching metallic objects to my head. What are they called? I remember learning about this in some class, but now the information escapes me. I could ask Oscar - the benefit of having a Candor performing my test is that he'll have to answer any questions honestly. "Is this dangerous?" I venture.

"The test? Certainly not," he says. His voice sounds slightly amused, as if it's funny that I would even ask. "Are you ready?"

"OK."

Oscar hands me a tiny glass filled with liquid.

"What is this?" I ask.

"This begins the test," he explains. "You need to drink it."

Well, there's obviously no point in arguing. I look at Oscar. I want to ask him more questions, stall a little, but I know I'd better not. The brave thing to do, I decide, is just to get the test over with. So I lift the glass to my lips and pour in the liquid.

I'm still in the room, but the world has changed. There is only me, now. Oscar, the equipment, the chair and the door have all disappeared. The walls are still covered with mirrors, but I hardly paid attention to them before. I don't like to look at my reflection, because who will I see? Someone weak, someone who falls terribly short of expectations. Finally I glance in one of the mirrors and face myself. My skin is freckly, my hair is long. I wear eyeliner the way Arden taught me to, but even my all-black outfit can't make me look like a real Dauntless. The timidity in my eyes would always betray me.

"Choose," someone behind me says.

I turn and there's no one there, but there are two baskets sitting on a table. One of them holds a large block of cheese, and the other has a knife. I've seen this sort of weapon plenty of times before; many people at Dauntless carried them for protection or just for the sake of doing it. Once, for my birthday, my father gave me a pocket knife that I could carry too, but I didn't want it; I hid it under my mattress and said I lost it. The knife, I figure, must be the key to getting a Dauntless result.

"Choose now," the voice says again.

I want to make my parents proud. I will try to be brave for them. I reach down and pick up the knife, but it feels foreign in my hand. I seriously consider putting it back and taking the cheese instead, but as soon as I've got the knife, both baskets and the table disappear. "Wait," I say to no one, or to myself. "I changed my mind."

But the baskets don't reappear. Instead, I see a dog in the distance. It's big, and it's angry. And it's charging toward me. Is it going to attack me? That must be it. I'm supposed to defend myself with the knife. That was the choice I made: to kill this animal. I guess it is brave on some level, to be unafraid of a fight. But it's not really fair, is it? Surely I'm smarter, but the dog is stronger. I imagine the knife is meant to even the playing field, but I don't want to use it. I drop the knife on the ground and sit next to it. The dog gets closer, and closer, and I wonder if it's possible to feel pain in this simulation, when the dog stops and turns toward a different direction. I look over and see there's now a little boy standing in a different corner of the room. "Hi doggy," he chirps.

What would be the brave thing to do now? "Run!" I yelp, wondering if I sound like a fool. I can't guess what I would do if confronted with this situation in real life: likely there'd be some other Dauntless who was actually strong enough to protect the person under attack. That's what I should try to do. Maybe I'm not brave enough to defend myself, but I'm not going to see a child get hurt. I pick up the knife and throw it, not to hit the dog but to distract it; the metal clangs on the ground and the dog starts after me again. "Run now!" I yell at the boy again, and he does until he disappears. Then the dog, too, is gone.

I sit down on the floor and catch my breath, but suddenly I find myself sitting in a chair instead. I look around; somehow I've been transported to a courtroom. There's a microphone in front of me, and everyone's eyes are on me.

A woman walks up to me and glares. "Claire, I need your help here." She points to someone sitting a few feet away from me. "Is it true that you saw this person stealing?"

I glance at who she's indicating and realize I recognize him: it's the little boy from the earlier who I told to run away from the dog. "What?" I say aloud. Why is he here? What is going on?

The woman moves her face close to mine. "This is very serious. The punishment for theft is death. So I need to know: did you or did you not see this young man stealing?"

I look at the boy and suddenly an image appears in my mind: I see him throw a brick through a window and take something out of it. I _did_ see him stealing, somehow. But the death penalty for such a small crime? It's insane... and he's so young.

The woman smacks the table, refocusing my attention on her. "Answer me! Yes or no? Did you see him committing the crime of theft?"

I close my eyes for a moment. What would be the brave thing to do? Protecting someone from an unjust punishment. Helping someone who cannot help himself. That would be brave, I think. "No," I tell her.

The woman glares at me. "Are you sure?" she asks.

_I will not give in. _"I'm sure," I tell her.

And with that, I wake up, back in the testing room with Oscar by my side.

"Interesting," he says.

"What is?"

Oscar rubs his chin and stares at the computer screen. "Well, Claire, your test outcome is interesting. You were born and raised in Dauntless, yet your result was for Abnegation. That's not exactly common."

I stare at him. I'm not sure how to feel. Happy? Sad? One thing is for sure - I am confused. "How?" I ask.

"Well, basically, the test works by eliminating factions by evaluating your aptitude for them," Oscar tells me while he rearranges the equipment to prepare for the next person. "In the first test, you chose the knife, which eliminated Amity. Ordinarily choosing the knife suggests an aptitude for Dauntless, but your hesitation and then refusal to use it on the dog actually eliminated that faction. You also showed a lack of technical knowledge on how to deal with the situation, which eliminated Erudite." He turned and looked at me momentarily. "Not that you're stupid, or anything. It merely indicates you're not interested in a life dedicated to the pursuit of information." Oscar shrugged and went back to what he was doing. "That left Candor and Abnegation, which is why you were sent to the second simulation. There, you chose to tell a lie to help another person, which eliminated Candor. Not to mention that your actions in the first simulation, when you were willing to sacrifice yourself to save the boy. You have the highest aptitude for Abnegation."

I can't think of anything to say except, "Oh."

When I sit back down with the rest of the Dauntless, I feel a strange surge of happiness. The test didn't say I was weak or scared, only that I was different. I am not like these other people. They will grow up to be soldiers, police - fighters. Not me.

My adrenaline has faded by the time I get home. Arden is there to congratulate me, but she doesn't ask my results, which I'm thankful for. She must know that my result wasn't Dauntless, but she just doesn't want it confirmed. I understand. She doesn't want to think that all her training has been for nothing. And I don't think she wants to lose me, either. And I don't want to lose her. Arden is the closest friend I've ever had, and the thought of living without her makes me afraid. Should I stay in Dauntless, to be with her? Maybe I still have a chance to make my parents proud. I can still remember some of the moves Arden taught me; I'll be weak at first, but I can train longer and harder than the others. There's some way, isn't there?

When my parents get home, they congratulate me too, but they seem sad. That night, my mother comes and sits at the edge of my bed. I look at her: my mother is muscular in a feminine way; I guess "shapely" might be the word. Normally she likes to wear dark eye shadow, but by this time of night, she's taken it off. I can see her tattoos: one flower on each of her shoulders, for each of her daughters, she's told me. Arden's flower is a red foxglove, beautiful but poisonous. The one for me is a small blue flower, but I don't know its name.

"Claire," my mother says. Her voice is unusually gentle.

"Yes," I reply.

"Did your test go well today?"

"Yes. Sure."

Mom smiles and looks down at the floor. "I know... I know things have been difficult for you. Sometimes the world we live in can be oppressive with its expectations." She sighs. "But I want you to understand that your father and I always have and always will love you."

I just stare at her. My mother has never talked to me this way. "Thank you," is all I can think to say.

"When you were growing up, you didn't like to play with the other kids. You would only play with Arden, because she'd never hurt you. You were fragile."

Now that sounds more familiar. I'm plenty used to having my physique criticized. "I know," I tell her.

Mom tucks some hair behind one of her ears. "Your father and I were worried about you. We tried to encourage you, but you've always been a dreamer." She sighs. "I always knew you would leave us."

"What?" I'm stunned for a moment. Then it makes sense: of course she knew. My parents had always made it clear to me that I was well behind expectations. They were always aware that I was not strong or fearless or brave enough for Dauntless. Would they have predicted I'd stay anyhow? No, surely not.

"It's alright," Mom says. "You know... this tattoo I have here, this is for you."

"One flower for Arden, one for me. You've told me." I smile.

"Yes, you remember. A foxglove for her, and this flower, for you... is called a forget-me-not."

"Oh..." I get it. She always knew I'd leave them, and she didn't want to forget me. My mom got the tattoo to remember me. To prepare for my departure. I want to cry, but I haven't cried in front of anyone else since I was a baby, not even Arden. At least I had the bravery not to do that.

Mom places her hand over mine. Her nails are black; mine are clear. "Be brave, Claire," she says.

I don't start to cry until she's gone.

At the Choosing Ceremony, I sit with my family, and among the families of the kids I sat with in the cafeteria the day before. Most of them look happy this time. These are the ones who know they will choose Dauntless. Those of us who look tense are the ones who aren't so sure. I watch as people make their decisions. Most people stay in their faction of origin - this is the safe, comfortable choice. They walk to the stage with confidence and then happily return to their parents, who hug them. I know I could take this path, too. I could stay with my family, surprise them with my choice to remain in the faction where I was born. But there would be great costs. Even if I managed to stay in Dauntless and not become factionless, I would spend the rest of my days being ridiculed, always being reminded of how I am too weak, too easily intimidated. I could try with all my might and still end up falling short.

When my name is called, I push my mind into its safe place. I pretend I'm walking to school. I try to imagine that I am one of the Dauntless who came before me, optimistic and proud and most of all, secure in their choice. I envision myself getting tattoos and growing muscular. It's possible, isn't it? For a moment, I look at my reflection in the pool of water within the bowl signifying Erudite. I look as scared as I feel.

Robotically, I pick up the knife and drag it across my palm. It hurts. I know that if I choose Dauntless now, it will be far from the last moment of physical pain I will be experiencing. _Be brave, Claire,_ I will myself. _Be brave._

I can't.

I know I'm weak. I'm afraid of everything: when I was a young child, I was afraid of the dark; when I told my parents, they said it would pass if I learned to conquer my fear. My father told me all Dauntless have this ability, and that was what true bravery meant. But even still, my mother brought me a little lamp and let me use it as a nightlight. It was only supposed to be a temporary thing - she wanted to wean me off it, but she never did. I'm not afraid of the dark anymore, but I didn't conquer the fear, I just grew out of it. And maybe I can grow out of my other fears, too. But not if I stay in Dauntless. Not if I allow myself to go back to the place where I'm intimidated by every one of my peers, and it's a rarity for my own parents to show me kindness. I love them, and I love Arden, but separating myself from them may be the bravest thing I can do in this lifetime.

I let my blood drip onto the gray stones.

"Abnegation!" Marcus declares, the loudness of his voice pulling me back into the real world. I recognize what I have done. I dare to steal a glance at my family; my mom is wiping away a tear, but they're smiling. Arden nods, and I nod back. I know I have abandoned them, but they know what I had to do. They understand it. And they still love me.

I look at my new family: the Abnegation, in their loose gray clothing. I walk over to them, and I notice that the girl who helped me up yesterday is sitting in the front row. She smiles and stands up as I approach, then bows her head to me. I return the gesture.

"My name is Susan," she says as she helps bandage my cut. "We'll be honored to have you join us."

"It'll be OK," I mumble. "Won't it?"

"Don't worry," Susan tells me.

And I decide I'll do my best to follow her advice.


	2. Chapter Two - Arden

**Arden**

Claire is gone. I don't mean she's dead, she's just... gone. Away. Disappeared into another faction, the one I have always understood the least. I don't know what she sees in those people with their bland, unvaried outfits and solemn expressions. I never paid much attention to them growing up. That was easy to do; they don't really like to be noticed, and they only fraternize with their own kind. But then again, I suppose a lot of us are that way. I didn't mind romping around with the kids from Amity sometimes, but they were never tough enough for me. At the end of the day I'd always return to the Dauntless, happy to be in a place where my strength was respected instead of viewed as dangerous.

I remember being excited when my parents told me I would have a little brother or sister, too. I've never been great with predictions, but somehow I knew that my sibling would be a girl. It sounded so good! Eight-year-old me was delighted at the thought of having someone I could teach about fighting and treat as number one buddy.

Claire was born, a healthy baby girl, just like I'd foreseen. I wondered if she'd look like me, but I guess all infants sort of look the same. I was smart enough to realize that it would be a few years before my little sister would be up to speed, so I waited. And waited. I was an impatient child, but I figured I'd better give Claire some time to grow up.

So I focused on myself for a while. I practiced fighting during recess at school, and some of the older kids seemed impressed with my moves, and they showed me more. My parents noticed my progress and were proud. They knew the day would come when I'd be old enough for the Choosing Ceremony, where I'd rejoin the faction that I had been brought up in and grown to adore. Once my parents had friends over, and I overheard one of them say, "Arden will never leave you." I recall chuckling at the thought. Why would I want to leave my terrific family? Things were perfect.

When Claire grew old enough to go to school, I believed it was time to start molding her in my image. She was five and I was 13, just beginning the transition from child to adult. Still, the constant reassurance from my parents made me believe I was capable of anything.

But my relationship with Claire did not progress as I had planned. She liked me - oh man, she liked me a lot. She would hang on to me whenever she could, hardly giving me a free moment. I was free from her during class time, but as soon as recess rolled around, Claire would be by my side. The problem was that she wasn't at all interested in fighting. "Why are you doing this?" she'd ask while I practiced punches. "Why don't you want to play with the other kids?"

One day I finally just sat her down and gave her a lecture. "Look, sis. We're Dauntless. That means everyone else wants to be like us. They wish they were as brave and strong as us, they wish they could do what we do. Do you understand?"

I guess that struck a note with her, because Claire smiled and nodded. "Yay, Dauntless!" she piped. This worked for a while, but it wasn't long before Claire was back to making remarks and asking questions that revealed her doubts about our faction. One day she said, "I wish we could wear blue like the Airdid."

"It's pronounced _Erudite_," I said in an attempt to surreptitiously change the subject.

"Erudite," Claire repeated. "I wish we could wear blue like them."

I remember not being sure what to say. It wasn't against the law for Dauntless to wear other colors besides the traditional black. But it wasn't common, and even then it wasn't viewed particularly favorably by most others. "It's not a big deal," I tried. "Don't worry about it."

As she got older, Claire started hanging around me less and less. She seemed to prefer being alone, or maybe it was just that she didn't have much of a choice. The other Dauntless kids saw she wasn't really up to their level of ability, so they stopped making any effort to include her. Maybe it was for the better; Claire had it hard enough as the skinniest kid in her year. I suppose I always suspected that she might transfer, and I tried to help her - when I was going through my own Dauntless initiation, I remembered everything, and after I became an official adult member of our faction, I'd take some time now and then to show Claire what I'd learned.

The truth is that by that point I didn't care if my sister was weak. I knew my parents were disappointed, but what could they do? I just didn't want to lose my only sibling.

But I did. In the end, I guess I knew it was going to happen. Walking to the Choosing Ceremony together a few hours ago was the last time we were a unified family. I remember sitting and watching as Claire chose Abnegation and not knowing what to think. I was sad - not because I felt betrayed, as other families of transfers did, but because I knew Claire was leaving us. When would I see her again? There was Visiting Day, and then what? But I pushed myself to be happy for her. And I let her go.

Today, Claire spilled her blood on the gray stones, and now she is a member of Abnegation. I don't know anything about that faction's initiation rituals, but I have no doubt they're a great deal easier than ours. As far as I know, Erudite and Dauntless are the only factions where you can actually fail initiation - if you're not smart or strong enough, respectively. And Claire is not strong enough for Dauntless. I can't deny it.

As I walk along in the Pit, I watch the new initiates jog past, heading off to their training. Most of them are skinny by Dauntless standards, but even the slimmest one is bigger than Claire. They don't know what awaits them, but I do. Learning how to fight, to use guns, to throw knives. I remember doing all these things and the way it felt: exciting, terrifying, empowering. I'd used a knife before; my dad gave one each to Claire and me. But using a gun was a new experience, and it was thrilling. I suppose that's why I ended up becoming a gunsmith myself.

As I walk in to the workshop in the Pit's first floor, the others look at me with pity. Everyone knows I have lost a sister. I suppose that in another faction, they would stop to console me, but in Dauntless we tend to manage our own struggles, or at least to the very best of our abilities. So I take my place at my work station and act as if nothing is wrong. That's the way we do things.

To my left is my best friend, Eva, who is nothing short of beautiful. She has gold hair and bright blue eyes, and even though she ranked second in our initiation year, she chose to work here with me. Eva is a good fighter because she is the perfect balance of smart and tough. But she's also the only person here who's likely to try to comfort me.

"Hi," she says as I sit down.

"What are we doing today?" I ask. It's a stupid question; I know our schedule and Eva knows I know.

Eva looks up at me. "More long-barreled stuff. D models," she quietly answers. We work for a while before she speaks again. "So, the Choosing Ceremony."

"Yeah," I say.

Eva puts down what she's working on and gazes at me. "I'm sorry," she murmurs.

"It's alright, I guess."

"She'll be better with them."

I remember that Eva was a transfer from Candor, and she's retained much of her bluntness. I can't deny that her comment mirrors my own thoughts, however. So I just shrug and say, "Yeah" again.

"Do you want to do something fun later?" Eva asks. "Do you want to go into the city?"

"Sure." Why not? As much as I'm happy to be Dauntless, sometimes I do feel a need to get away from the compound. Even though I've lived here all my life, I still find myself craving the fresh air on the surface. Well, as "fresh" as our air can be, anyway.

When it's time to leave work for the day, we head through the Pit and out to the train stop. There are other people here, too, many who I know. A few people give me sympathetic looks, and a few nod in apparent apology, but that's it. In truth, I'm not the only person in our faction who has lost a family member. There were multiple transfers this year, kids like Claire who weren't brave or strong enough to withstand the pressures of Dauntless life. Though I do have to admit that Abnegation is not a very popular choice for our transfers.

The train arrives, and Eva and I jump onto it; I've done this a million times, it seems. I have never slipped or failed to make the landing - rather, I've always been the one who reached out to help others onboard. I guess you could say I have a little Abnegation in me, too, but in all honesty, I wasn't doing it because I felt some compulsion to be selfless. I just wanted things to carry on in a smooth and timely manner. When I think about it, I guess there are many acts that can appear to be selfless but are really driven by some other urge. Why do people volunteer to train initiates? Is it because they feel a need to help these adolescents assimilate into Dauntless society, or is it because they want to feel a sense of power, even if it's over fledgling initiates? I guess it doesn't matter as long as the job gets done in the end.

There's a lot of talking as we ride the train into the city. This isn't unusual; moments of silence among the Dauntless are rare. Most of the time, the voices sound excited, energized - but today, people sound pained. It is no wonder. People have lost children, friends, or like me, siblings. Eventually, we will get used to living without these people, and life will return more or less to normal. Some will look upon the transfers as deserters, traitors, but I could never be that extreme. At least, I don't think I could.

We jump off the train and Eva stumbles but I do not. "What do you want to do?" she asks as she steadies herself.

This surprises me. Eva was the one who suggested we come here; I'd figure she'd have some agenda. "Let's just walk around," I offer.

"Do you want to walk by the Abnegation compound?" Eva asks.

Once again, Eva has surprised me. "Alright," I say. "Sure." I know what the Abnegation homes look like: rows and rows of square boxes. The sameness of them irritates me in a way, or I guess maybe it makes me nervous, though I'd never admit it. Uniformity is not something worth being afraid of.

On the other hand, Eva doesn't seem to like it much either. "Why would anyone want to live like this?" she asks. Her tone is repulsed, rather than anxious.

We keep a bit of a distance from the compound. Members of one faction visiting the territory of another one isn't prohibited, but it's not exactly viewed favorably. I might be Dauntless, but I don't have any interest in stirring up trouble. Eva and I stay far away enough that it's obvious we have no plans to enter the Abnegation's land, but close enough that I can see the people there. People have suggested that Amity represents Dauntless's natural opposite, but I think Abnegation would be a more accurate candidate for that title. They move slowly and carefully, there unassuming people who seem like aliens to me.

I don't even bother to hope that I might see Claire. But as Eva and I walk along, I do see someone familiar. A boy from my year who I'd all but forgotten. Like Claire, he transferred to Abnegation, and I remembered observing his parents' reaction. I remember his name is Mitchell, and he still has the same handsome face he had in Dauntless, though his new short haircut and monochromatic wardrobe don't exactly flatter it. I know he will not approach me first, so I take the first step and say, "Hello, Mitchell."

"Arden," he says. His smile is warm. "How are you doing?"

"I'm OK," I reply. "This is my friend Eva."

"How do you know each other?" Eva asks.

I hesitate to say that we grew up together, because the wording suggests some sort of friendship, which Mitchell and I never had. I settle on saying, "We were classmates. He used to be Dauntless." I suppose I sound a bit callous, but it doesn't matter.

Eva smiles in a sad kind of way. "So you transferred too."

Mitchell looks confused. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. 'Too'?"

I stare into space, not looking at Eva or Mitchell. "My younger sister Claire transferred to Abnegation yesterday."

"How are you... feeling about it?"

I know Mitchell's concern for me comes from a different place than Eva's. He cares about me because it is his job. But perhaps it is a little more personal in this case. He and Claire chose the same path, after all. I decide to be honest. "I don't know," I tell him.

"Would you like me to keep an eye on her?" Mitchell asks.

I can't tell if he's offering this because he's supposed to, or if he genuinely has some special interest in helping me. I can't imagine why that would be: we were never friends; I don't even remember talking to him more than once or twice back when he was still in Dauntless. This isn't Candor, so it's not unreasonable to doubt his motives, but at least I can rule out self-interest. I suppose the most likely cause is that Mitchell feels bad for me. If it were only me, I'd reject the offer; I don't want or need anyone's pity. But Claire is in the equation, and the reality is that I can no longer protect her. I guess the best way of dealing with this is to think of it as a business transaction. "OK, but I'll owe you something," I say.

"No, you won't owe me anything, Arden. I want to help you."

I cross my arms. "I'll feel better if you let me owe you something... or..." I try to reword this in a more Abnegation-appealing way. "I'll feel better if you let me do something for you in return."

Mitchell looks from me back to the compound, as if we're doing something illicit. "No, it's OK," he says finally. "I wouldn't ask anything of you." Then he looks happy again. "If you don't mind, I must return. There's work to be done. It was nice to see you, Arden, and to meet you, Eva." And with that, he leaves.

"Weird," says Eva. "These people are so, so weird."

"Yeah," I agree. I suppose Claire will become this way, dressed in loose gray clothing and always volunteering without hoping to get anything in return. It's not all that hard to imagine, honestly.

"Let's get out of here," Eva suggests, and we do.

When we get back to the Dauntless compound and head for the dining hall, it's already filled. Initiation began as soon as the new members left the Choosing Ceremony, and like I said, ours isn't easy. So to congratulate our initiates, there's always a special dinner on their first night as Dauntless. I know I should try to be happy for them, to welcome them to their new home. I applaud along with everyone else and smile at the new initiates. They look so young and unsure, and I try to visualize Claire on her first night in Abnegation. What are they doing? Certainly not having a feast filled with loud conversation.

After a while, Max and the other leaders come out to give the welcoming speech to the initiates. It hasn't changed since my own initiation, though the people in power have. I've never fully understood why certain people are attracted to leadership positions, but in Dauntless it's probably all about control. Some people feel strongest when they're controlling others, I guess. On the other hand, being a leader comes with a great deal of prestige, and I can see why that would be worth chasing. I'm not the type, though. Chasing the limelight just isn't part of who I am, and as well as I fit in to the expectations of what a Dauntless member should be, I'm happy with my behind-the-scenes job.

Sitting with Eva and some of our friends, I look again at the initiates as they listen to Max talk. In their faces, I try to see other versions of Claire; what might have been if she were a little tougher, a little stronger, or a little braver. Even though some of the initiates look nervous, none of them are really scared. Max is intimidating, and beyond that they respect him, but these are people who opted for the Dauntless life when given the chance to choose.

For a second, I'm jealous of them; I was always expected to remain in Dauntless, and I did. I don't think I ever even considered transferring. Was I too obedient to my parents, too willing to fulfill their wants from me? I shake these thoughts out of my mind. I remained in Dauntless because I fit in here perfectly. This is the place for the strong and the courageous, so I belong here. People like Claire - the meek and the selfless, they belong in Abnegation. It's only the natural order of things, and as my father used to say, "the faction system is the grease the keeps the wheels of our society running."

After dinner, the Pit is abuzz with initiates, walking around in awe at all the shops. Of course the gunsmiths are closed for the day, so they can't yet visit my place of work. Right now, they're headed for clothing stores and the tattoo parlor. People are surprised that after all my years as a loyal and proud Dauntless, I have no tattoos. I guess nothing I thought of ever seemed quite right.

In a flash of inspiration, I find myself in a tattoo parlor myself. Eva has gone off to train, so I'm alone - well, if you don't count all the initiates looking through art books and chattering away. A friend of mine, Nicholas, is working tonight, so I walk over to his station and say hello.

"Arden? Didn't expect to see you in here," he says, not unkindly.

I smile and shrug. "I'm surprised you're not working on anyone," I tell him. "This place is packed."

Nicholas looks around wearily. "A lot of these kids are transfers. They take forever to choose, and sometimes they chicken out at the last moment."

I sit down in the chair and grin up at him. "I want a tattoo."

"You?"

"Yeah."

Nicholas chuckles. "After all these years! Arden finally wants a tat! Never thought I'd see the day."

I laugh with him tap his leg with my knuckles playfully. "I just took a long time to decide, OK?"

"So what'll it be?"

"A flower," I reply. "Do you think you can do a forget-me-not?"


End file.
